Rosa 'Benjamin Britten' - 14 May 2020

O Rose, thou art sick!

The invisible worm

That flies in the night

In the howling storm

Has found out thy bed

Of crimson joy:

And his dark secret love

Does thy life destroy

William Blake

It has been my experience after having grown roses since 1987 that roses are like babies and cats. They never perform on demand. They do as they please and often they can surprise you when you are not looking.

The David Austin English Rose Rosa ‘Benjamin Britten’ is ample proof that I may be right. This year, a month ago, the leaves that emerged all had some sort of black spot. I sprayed the rose with the only BC acceptable fungicide Safer’s

 Defender. I pulled a few of the infected leaves. The plant looks terrible.

And yet today I found this glorious bloom. It reminded me that Benjamin Britten wrote a work for that William Blake poem. And here it is.